The Sailor See-Saw Marjorie Daw The Shepherd Boy Simple Simon Sing A Song Of Sixpence The Singing Children Sleep, Baby, Sleep A Snail Some Other Child Stand Still And Watch The Steam-Engine Sweet and Low Swinging The Sailor The sailor comes from over seas, From lands where we have never been, Where flowers are strange, and strange the trees Such golden fruit amongst the green! The birds wear rainbows in their wings, What fire and flash, what shine and sheen, They seem too fine for mortal things! Gay are the songs the sailor sings When home he comes from over seas. Back to Top See-Saw Marjorie Daw See-Saw Marjorie Daw; Sold her bed, And lay upon straw. Back to Top The Shepherd Boy The farmer's shepherd boy is Bill: Across the fields he drives the sheep, And where the long road winds uphill, Like little summer clouds they creep. And Bill is like the gentle wind, He whistles softly as he goes, He calls them where he has a mind, And never uses threats or blows. Back to Top Simple Simon Simple Simon met a pieman, Going to the fair. Said Simple Simon to the pieman, "Let me taste your ware." Said the pieman unto Simon, "Show me first your penny." Said Simple Simon to the pieman, "Indeed I have not any." Simple Simon went a-fishing, For to catch a whale; But all the water he had got Was in his mother's pail. Simple Simon went to look, If plums grew on a thistle; He pricked his fingers very much, Which made poor Simon whistle. He went for water in a sieve, But soon it all fell through; And now poor Simple Simon Bids you all adieu. Back to Top Sing A Song Of Sixpence Sing a song of sixpence, A pocketful of rye; Four and twenty blackbirds Baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, The birds began to sing; Wasn't that a dainty dish, To put before the king? The king was in the counting-house, Counting out his money; The queen was in the parlor, Eating bread and honey. The maid was in the garden, Hanging out the clothes; When down came a blackbird, And bit her on the nose. Back to Top The Singing Children Gladly marching two and two, Keeping time as soldiers do, Waving banner, beating drum, Here the singing children come! Clean and happy, good and neat, What sight for all the street! Smiling mothers, come and see, Here's an army brave and free. Whose unlessoned fearless feet Need not yet to learn retreat: Waving banner, beating drum, Here the singing children come! Back to Top Sleep, Baby, Sleep Sleep, baby, sleep, Thy papa guards the sheep; Thy mama shakes the dreamland tree And from it fall sweet dreams for thee, Sleep, baby, sleep, Sleep, baby, sleep, Our cottage vale is deep; The little lamb is on the green, With woolly fleece so soft and clean, Sleep, baby, sleep, Sleep, baby, sleep, Down where the woodbines creep; Be always like the lamb so mild, A kind and sweet and gentle child, Sleep, baby, sleep. Back to Top A Snail A Snail crept up the lily's stalk: "How nice and smooth," said he; "It's quite a pleasant evening walk, And just the thing for me!" Back to Top Some Other Child Dear Father, I am very glad I was the little girl you had! Suppose some other child had come To live inside my pleasant home, To run and climb upon your knee Some other child who was not me Would you have called her by my name And thought about her just the same? Back to Top Stand Still And Watch Stand still and watch the clock's grave face, The hands go round an even pace, The hands go round, and though so slow, In vain we try to see them go! But watch that long black hand again, Did you not see it moving then In tiny jerks from space to space? O bright moon rising full and round, I watch you leave the level ground You pass the tops of houses, trees, I see you mounting over these; The stars themselves your progress prove In vain I watch to see you move No single jerk, as yet, I've found! Back to Top The Steam-Engine Through the night and through the day The great steam-engine winds his way: Unswerving, swift, he shall not stray Though labyrinths of metal thread Their shining lines before him spread, And lights are changing green and red! The great steam-engine tears along, Of iron and flame, broad-breasted, strong, His speed is as the eagle's, on Past startled plain and mountain-height, This bold embodiment of might With flame and thunder rends the night! Back to Top Sweet and Low Lord Alfred Tennyson Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waves we go, Come from the dying moon and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, my pretty one, Sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon; Sleep my little one, sleep my pretty one, Sleep. Back to Top Swinging Swing me up and swing me down, Swing me up towards the sky Swinging is like being blown, Blow me up and let me fly, Like a piece of thistle-down Swing me up towards the sky! Back to Top Back to Main Index 1831 © copyright The Lord's Rain. All rights reserved. Graphics by: moody motifs